Goodbye My Lover
by Andrea Sinisterra
Summary: 1xR. Their love was as great as those portrayed in ancient books: passionate and full of yearning, dangerous and forbidden... For he was married to another woman, and she, to his best friend. Lime content


**Goodbye My Lover**  
By Andrea  
Rated R  
Angst / Romance  
_Standard Disclaimers Apply_

**Author's Note:** James Blunt has been playing non-stop for God knows how long... Inspired by his song by which this fic is titled... I hope you enjoy.

**Warnings:** Adultery, sex. Not proof-read.

* * *

"God…" Her words slurred as they hissed against the hot skin on his shoulder; her hands flaying wildly about her to find some balance from the frantic forcefulness of his thrusts.

The thrumming bass rocketed through the windows all around them, the flashing lights sliding artfully through the blinds. They were oblivious to all movement around them, only intent on their frantic breathing, their hushed words, their wild heartbeats, and their guilty minds.

Her back slammed once again against the wall and she cried out, relishing the contrasting pain to the utter pleasure he pooled in her; her hands running through his hair, down his back to cup his ass, as if by some miracle she could push him so far he would be able to crawl inside her skin and become part of her permanently.

Mindlessly, she lowered her head to his shoulder, his breaths puffing against her neck as she let the edge of her teeth run against his skin, savoring the surprised hiss escaping his lips. Retaliating, he rammed harder into her, bunching her skirt further up her waist, one hand snaking under her top to cup and mold her breast in his palm. Ten seconds later he was feeling her tightening around him so powerfully his knees buckled, and it took all his willpower not to crush her against the wall with his weight.

Yes, such delicious torture the feel of her nails digging on his back, her teeth closing on his shoulder, his skin muting her extenuating screams of ecstasy—he smiled briefly before one hard, world-rocketing thrust later he was coming inside her, his once powerful thrusts slowly turning leisurely, evening out.

Her trembling legs held him to her, allowing him into her forbidden warmth. The long seconds of silent cooling down was enough to bring awareness rushing back into the present, the noises outside their little bubble slamming into them, jarring them from their sleeplike trance.

Sighing regretfully, longingly, he leaned his forehead against hers, their eyes colliding and holding the other's stare as if trying to divulge all their secrets, passions and fears with just one, albeit powerful, look.

The kiss was full of yearning as he unwrapped her reluctant legs from around his waist, bending down to pick her underwear. They exchanged no words as they dressed and fixed themselves—readying themselves to join the outer world—, as if ignoring their reality would fix things.

Yet, he was not hers, and she was not his. It was such utter agony that he would know her better than he knew himself; such utter agony that she be the only one capable of understanding him.

* * *

"This is dangerous." She had whispered urgently.

He snorted, braving the chill of that particular October day. "It's been too long, Relena. I don't care anymore."

There was some noise behind her, pots and pans, maybe silverware clinking merrily as if taunting them. "But… what if he finds out? What if she finds out?"

And that would always make the permanent pain in his heart swell back to life in painful, uneven throbs. "I just… can't do this anymore."

It should have sounded final, but it never was. "I know… I can't, either. Maybe we should just—" And then she would stop, reconsider and plead. "He's leaving tomorrow morning; it'll be only two days, but—"

It was all she could give at the time, and it was all he could take at the time. Nothing else seemed to matter. "I don't care. She will be at a conference tomorrow morning; I'll call in sick and we could—"

Her voice was even more papery, her frustration and yearning a cacophony of tones and whispers. "Yes. Yes. I want you so much."

Always want, never love.

"Tomorrow. Our place, 11am."

"I'll be there, Heero."

* * *

The lock in the door turned at exactly five past eleven that Thursday morning, followed by the myriad of forbidden thoughts and surrendering passion that seemed to almost overpower him the moment the swinging door revealed her delicate frame to his wanton view.

She was kissing him even before the door thudded shut, their bodies on automatic as they kissed, making their way to the bedroom, flinging jackets, shirts and blouses, his hands yanking her pants off her hips roughly, his wanting too severe for delicacies.

Her body was undulating under his seconds later, a beautiful arch made of ivory marble as she offered her breasts to him. And he took them, cupping them softly in his rough hands, their hips dancing a tandem on the sinful sheets, her feet planted firmly on the backs of his shins as she used them for leverage, bracing his thrusts with a swift push.

Their lips fused together, their tongues, their arms, their eyes, their heartbeats, everything became one. One single fluid rush of climatic adrenaline until they tumbled down, crashing and burning into the soiled mattress of the equally seedy motel.

He licked his way from her sternum to her chin, lowering back to her neck where he stayed to suckle tenderly. She stopped him. "You can't leave marks."

"There is a scar inside me with your name. Don't tell me I can't leave marks." He kissed her forcefully then, as if trying to sear his presence into her heart and never let go.

She would have to come up with a new excuse; maybe she got stung by a bee and it swelled, or maybe someone tried to rob her while she was walking home from work… she'd done it before, so what else was new?

* * *

It didn't matter how hard she tried to smile and keep her eyes from straying and finding his across the table, it was clinically impossible to avoid or ignore his presence; it was so powerful, urging her to abide to his silent call.

Her husband, bless his oblivious soul, laughed warmly as he slapped his best friend on the back, ending one of the infinite tales of their childhood and college life as roommates. How was she to know that, two years ago while assisting to a Christmas party her husband had been invited to, she would be introduced to his best friend, the one her husband frequently spoke of but she never got the chance to meet? And how was she to know she would develop a forbidden desire for said best friend and that he, too, would find himself cornering her, as if trying to rob her for himself? How was her husband supposed to foretell that the two people he trusted most in the world would go behind his back and stab him in the worst way possible?

How was he to know, even to the day, that his own wife and his very best friend had been secretly fucking their silly brains out whenever they got the chance to do it? And how was he supposed to know that he, unknowingly, gave them the perfect opportunities to see each other in a normal scenario without anyone else thinking something was wrong with the picture?

Surely, how was he supposed to know all this?

How was he to know that right now that, while having dinner in this fancy restaurant, she couldn't even taste the food, her tongue only remembering the taste of the sweat of his skin, or the taste of his lips? And how was he to know that while he retold one of his escapades back in college, all she could think of was how wonderful it felt to have –his- cock inside her, stretching her so wide she feared she would choke with the extenuating fulfillment of instant orgasm?

No, there was no way her husband could know all this.

Maybe she would have felt slightly jealous by the presence of his utterly beautiful wife sitting across her, so sophisticated and prim in her cocktail dress, the romantic lights reflecting off her beautiful black hair. She should have felt jealous, if not envious, if it weren't for the possessively smoldering looks Heero cast her way now and then.

Surely, how was his wife to know this?

* * *

They met in another city a few weeks later; she was visiting her brother whom she had not seen in three months, while he was attending a seminar held at one of the Waldorf Astoria's meeting rooms, merely ten floors down from the room she was staying in.

To her surprise, they met in the elevator while she was on her way to her room; she had not expected to see him there since he was supposed to be at said seminar, yet his presence was not unwelcome. They lunged for each other, their lips colliding in a frantic, frenzied kiss that instead of placating their need, only seemed to set the burning embers on fire, fueling their desire.

They sprang apart when the doors opened again on the next floor to admit two elderly women inside, and she almost had to bite her tongue to keep from groaning her frustration out loud. It should have stopped him, the presence of the women; instead it seemed to set his frustration ablaze as he, standing behind her, deftly snuck a hand inside the waistband of her skirt, sliding aside the cloth of her underwear to directly stimulate her burning sex.

This time, she did bite her tongue, trying to still the growing moan his deft fingers instigated in her, trying to will her legs to stay firm, even if standing upright was turning out to be growingly more difficult the more he stroked her clit.

Her eyes were fixated on the back of one of the women's head; the fear that anytime either or both could turn around and catch them was setting her adrenaline on fire, and her burning need only incremented at the possibilities at risk.

An unknown amount of time later he withdrew his hand seconds before the elevator chimed, allowing the women to step out, leaving them once again alone for the two remaining floors that would ultimately lead to her room.

* * *

"She knows."

He was standing beside the bed of their motel room, looking forlorn and tired; his words instantly sending her blood rushing through her ears. "How?"

Nonchalantly, he shrugged his shoulders, as if the matter at hand was the same as deciding what kind of eggs you wanted for breakfast. "Does it really matter how she knows?"

It didn't, really.

He continued. "I don't think she knows it's you, but she suspects I've been cheating on her for a few weeks now."

No need correcting her that they've been seeing each other for the better part of two years, right?

She came completely inside, the shutting door resounding with0020finality throughout the room. She removed her jacket and hung it haphazardly across the backrest of a nearby chair, stepping out of her shoes on her way to him. "What does this mean?"

He closed his eyes then, shaking his head slowly. Her heart stopped and then raced again at the defeat written all across his handsome, boyish features; was this the end?

His eyes opened again when he felt her hands cupping his cheeks, the tips of her fingers brushing his ears. Her eyes were clouded with instant tears, yet her smile was wistful as it chased across her lips. She looked so beautiful then, like a little girl full of wishes and hopes, all crystal clear through her eyes. She had always been an open book to him, so true and sincere.

"Don't become a stranger."

Her words were softly spoken, the whispery letters caressing his cheeks in tender waves of breath. And she kissed him then, her lips pliant as they held his; the prolonged hold only worsening the clog of emotion swirling inside his throat, threatening to choke him if he didn't find some reprieve.

"I will always be here." He promised brokenly, not being able to say the words they yearned, yet not able to deny her.

He watched as she retreated, saw her step into her shoes, witnessed as she shrugged back into her jacket, closed his eyes at the sight of her hand on the doorknob.

"Goodbye, Heero."

He choked on his words, the tears bursting from his throat, but valiantly he shot them down, pushed them back and forced a smile… just for her. "Never goodbye, Relena."

She smiled, too, and opened the door. "Never. I will always be here." She made her promise as well, because like he, there were things she could not allow herself to voice, yet couldn't find it in her heart to deny him either.

Then the door closed, and this time both knew it would be the end.

* * *

FIN. Please review. 


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